


Physical Compatibility

by pallorsomnium



Series: For My Family (We Are The Resistance) [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Pacific Rim AU, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallorsomnium/pseuds/pallorsomnium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first in a series of ficlets set in a Pacific Rim AU. Erik is a Jaeger pilot waiting for a co-pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physical Compatibility

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw the trailer for Pacific Rim and was immediately attacked with a plot bunny, because MIND MELDING. *u* Next thing I knew, I had a ficlet complete. (And yes that means I wrote this before the movie even came out. There will be some inconsistencies between my AU and the actual movie 'verse!)
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr on June 23rd. Un-beta'd.

Every morning, Erik woke up at 0530 hours and went out for a run, come sunshine, rain, or snow. He always took a cool-down shower at 0620 hours before leaving the dorms for the canteen, where he ate a sub-par in taste, but well-balanced breakfast. Afterwards, he went to the training centre that had been built on the base specifically for the Jaeger programme. There, he spent hours upon hours training -- physically, mentally, and through the Jaeger controls simulators -- only stopping for a quick lunch around noon time. He always finished training at 1830 hours, at which time he took another shower and ate dinner at the canteen. Afterwards, he'd return home, catch up on the news, and go the bed at 2200 hours, to begin the cycle over again the next day.

For three years now, his daily routine had barely changed, because he still didn't have a partner. There'd been other Jaeger pilot candidates, of course, but after he'd been selected as the best choice for a pilot out of the lot, the matching process with potential co-pilots had been unfruitful and, at times, disastrous.

Since then, the Jaeger programme's resident scientists had found a way to scan Erik's brain and somehow reference that scan against a candidate's to determine a match -- a method much less painful and less time- and resource-consuming, but just as unsuccessful. He was forced to sit back and watch as other nations' Jaegers were sent out to fight the Kaiju, while he could only train and wait for his co-pilot to turn up.

So when Erik walked into the training centre one Monday morning to see his commanding officer waiting for him, it was to hear the best news he'd had since his letter of acceptance into the Jaeger programme: they had found his partner.

 

_Your partner's name is Charles Francis Xavier. He was born in England and raised in New York, but we found him at Oxford, so we had to fly him over. He will be arriving here at 0900 hours; wait for him in briefing room C_ , his commander had said.

_Sir, what changed? Why has it taken so long?_ Erik had asked.

_We were looking in the wrong places._ His commander had smiled wryly but had said no more, dismissing him to return to his training.

Now Erik sat in the chair closest to the entrance into the briefing room, hands clenching the trouser fabric at his thighs tightly and resisting the urge to stand up and pace.

What was he to say to the person who would share all his memories and thoughts?

He didn't have to wait long before his commander came in, following by two men, one of whom was in a wheelchair. The man was around Erik's age and dressed in a navy blue cardigan and khaki slacks. The moment the three entered the room, his eyes -- so, so remarkably blue eyes -- focused immediately on Erik. It felt as if he was seeing straight into Erik's soul, some sort of connection snapping into place between them. He was Erik's partner, the certainty in that knowledge sinking into Erik's bones. 

Erik hurriedly stood in attention for his commander, but he couldn't draw his eyes away from the man in the wheelchair.

"Lehnsherr, this is your new co-pilot, Dr Charles Xavier. Behind him is Dr Hank McCoy, Xavier's colleague and a new member of our technical staff," his commander introduced.

Erik spared a glance to assess Dr McCoy -- a brunette with large wire-rimmed glasses, in his mid-twenties if even that, tall and thin, dressed in an unassuming button-down shirt and jeans -- before turning his full attention back to Xavier.

"Hello. Please call me Charles," the man said, smiling at him warmly. "I would stand, but Hank," he gestured over his shoulder to Dr McCoy, "won't let me until my prosthetics have a final tune-up."

"I-Erik, call me Erik."

Charles continued smiling at him, his blue eyes so bright, and held out a hand for him to shake.

"Well then, Erik, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I look forward to working with you."

His hand was warm and calloused, his grip confident and strong in Erik's. His touch sent shivers up his arm and adrenaline coursing through Erik's body. As of yet, he knew nothing about the man and had so many questions to ask him, but Erik couldn't wait to finally pilot his first Jaeger with Charles at his side.


End file.
